


Detour Home

by thecoldlightofday



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecoldlightofday/pseuds/thecoldlightofday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and Shane on a roadtrip. Originally posted <a href="http://cuntsthatwere.tumblr.com/post/40640986183/detour-home">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detour Home

He and Rick took a road trip the last few weeks of summer before they started at the police academy. There was no rhyme or reason; it just seemed like a good idea, some little thing Rick suggested while they were drinking in his childhood bedroom, Shane bouncing an old tennis ball against the door. Two weeks, Rick suggested. And the next day Shane had already mapped out a route from King County down to the Florida coast.

“Let’s see the ocean,” he said, smiling. The sun pouring in through the open window stung his eyes.

It was normal enough at first. They slept in the car some nights and bad motels the others and got the shits from a shack an hour outside of Jacksonville even though Shane had said it was a bad idea to eat shrimp from a place that far from the sea.

It wasn’t until they got into a bar fight, some argument over paying for a round someone else ordered that had escalated and Rick had only jumped into help bail Shane out, that Shane noticed for the first time that things were off.

Rick had a black eye and Shane’s blood on the front of his shirt. Shane’s nose was busted, gushing everywhere, and it made a whistling noise each time he breathed. He sucked in hard, just trying to gauge how much air he could get in, testing out if he needed to go to the hospital for this one, and tasted blood in his throat. He spat a thick wad of it out the window. It flattened, shining like black ice, on the pavement outside the car door.

“You could have gotten arrested,” Rick said. He touched his eye and winced. There was one cold pack left in the glove compartment wrapped in their last roll of gauze. Shane cracked it on the dashboard before handing it to Rick.

“Nah.” Shane shook his head. He couldn’t stop grinning, blood dripping over his lips and onto his teeth. He couldn’t pay much attention to anything he was doing, or feeling, no matter the throb emanating deep in the cartilage of his nose and out. He was too busy watching Rick lean in toward him, Shane’s blood smearing Rick’s jaw in a way that made him perversely beautiful. Rick pressed the cold pack to Shane’s nose, and it was Rick’s gentle stare for him, not the sudden iciness of the compress, that made Shane hold his breath.

Since they started this trip Shane had wanted. But it was more than he was used to wanting Rick—Rick beside him, Rick buying him another beer. This was deeper and confusing. This was him wanting _Rick_ and everything Rick had to offer. This was him wanting to shove the compact away and kiss Rick stupid, not caring that it would smear his blood across Rick’s mouth.

He waited, though, for a moment when Rick looked at him the same.

It was their third to last night on the road and they were lost in Louisiana because Shane had fallen asleep and Rick had misread the map. They were somewhere scenic, all tall trees and swampland, the prettiness of the bayou and countryside brightly lit beneath a sky dotted with stars. He kept making jokes about Rick’s (lack of) navigation and Rick’s smile was entirely for him, wide and full.

So Shane kissed him.

Trying to jerk Rick off in the backseat was complicated. Shane liked sex in cars, he’d had a lot of sex in cars—some of his best sex, even, seventeen and groaning as Mrs. Kelley rode him in her husband’s Cadillac, car bouncing on its shocks. With Rick though, it was different. Too cramped. Leather seat slick with sweat beneath them. He and Rick kept slipping over each other trying to make room, fully aware that they were parked on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.

They got it right eventually. Rick’s head against one of the windows, breath hitching, garbled moaning as Shane moved his hand in long, quick strokes.

Shane was so hard touching him. Rick with his mouth half open, his breath fogging up the glass. Shane undid his belt and zipper with the fingers that weren’t on Rick. Wrapped a hand around himself, so close to coming just watching Rick.

This was as picturesque as outside had been, more beautiful to Shane than nature ever could be because it was him and Rick. There were dappled slivers of starlight on Rick’s belly, the interior of the car dreamy under the cold summer moon.

Rick was gentle when it was Shane’s turn. He seemed to go on forever at it, until Shane felt like he was dying, shaking when he finally came. Rick’s mouth was soft on his neck as he worked Shane through his orgasm. Rick shushing him with unintelligible words.

They both climbed back into the front seats after, pants pulled open, Shane missing his shirt. It wasn’t awkward, though at first it was trying to be. It was calm, like nothing had really happened. He read the map, Rick drove, and he would have thought Rick had forgotten all about it were it not for Rick kissing him later when they finally found their way out onto the main road.


End file.
